


Zing!

by StrahberryyBanana



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Artist! Sanha, Fluff, Handyman! Rocky, M/M, Park Minhyuk | Rocky - Freeform, Yoon Sanha - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-10 11:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrahberryyBanana/pseuds/StrahberryyBanana
Summary: The apartment really sucked, but it wasn't like Sanha could afford anything better. At least he didn't have to pay for a handyman; The apartment's management supplied them to fix all of his problems, which there were a lot of. What management didn't know, however, was that one of their employees was causing problems.Causing problems in Sanha's heart, that is.In which Sanha is a college student in a bad apartment, and Rocky is the handyman that was called to fix his heater.





	1. What?

The sound of a door slamming startled Sanha from his textbook. Through the thin walls, the noises of an apartment being occupied could be heard.

_The neighbors were home._

Sanha groaned, rubbing his neck. It was 11:23 p.m.; The loud couple was home quite early. Sanha’s studying attempts were all in vain. So much for a long, productive night.

Sanha tried to ignore it, he really did. But after listening to the two argue about whether they should have white mac and cheese or regular mac and cheese for _seven minutes_ , he succumbed and jammed in his Apple headphones.

Just another thing to complain to management about.

* * *

 

Sanha was ambitious.

That’s why, at the ripe old age of nineteen-and-two-thirds, he packed up his bags and moved out of his parents’ house.

Of course, a job at the Guitar Center two miles north could only get you so far. Hence, his parents helped pay his rent on the condition that they talk often, and that he attend his classes diligently.

Communicating was no problem, Sanha had a strong bond with both his parents and his older brother. When it came to school, though, classes where attendance wasn’t mandatory were sometimes taken for granted.

Sanha was a second-year student at the College of Nursing Seoul National University. Sanha absolutely loved children; His dream job was to become a play therapist, helping young kids who struggled get the proper care and counseling. With being homosexual, this was as close to having kids of his own, Sanha assumed, that he would get.

His good grades were the result of countless late nights and breakdowns, of failed tests and extra credit work, but no thanks to his nocturnal neighbors.

Not that it was necessarily their fault; The entire apartment complex that the three lived in was terrible.

The bathroom showers were slimy, the internet connection was terrible, and something in the air vents meant that Sanha was constantly in a state of being sick. Not to mention the thin walls, meaning that no conversations were private.

Mechanics, electricians, and plumbers were frequently in and out of Sanha’s apartment, and he had the number to the main building’s front desk almost memorized.

Only occasionally would he switch up the five and the two at the end of the number, dialing a local massage therapy place who had eventually blocked him from calling.

The rent for the apartment was cheap, however, and only around a thirty-minute bus commute to Sanha’s job, school, and church. Besides, as soon as Sanha’s six-month lease was up, he planned to find a roommate. Until then, the place would have to make do.

Still, It was pretty bad.

* * *

 

Sanha had a hobby, if he could call it that. More like… Something that he did once in a blue moon, whenever he had spare time. But, between studying, making money, and practicing a religion, moments like those were rare.

To put it simply, Sanha loved art.

His preferred medium was oil pastels, Sanha enjoyed the way the way that two colors could blend together seamlessly at his fingertips. It gave his drawings a soft, blurry edge.

Hanging up on the walls, Sanha had a few of his favorite pieces. In the kitchen, a vibrant yellow-and-blue parakeet that Sanha had photographed when he visited an aviary with his parents a few years back. In the bedroom, a detailed dreamcatcher laced with gemstones that he had seen in a market in May.

A soft orange calla lily, the Han River at night, a sketch of Sanha’s family, done right before he had left. Every drawing that he had completed over the years had some special memory tied to it. And it was time for another one.

The next time Sanha had caught a break was a warm day in September, and he went out with his camera to find some inspiration for his next piece.

Sanha went to multiple crowded markets, into antique stores smelling of old books, and spent most of his time dawdling in the busy streets of Seoul.

Despite the weather being perfect, Sanha was annoyed.

Even after walking around for so long, visiting what seemed like the entire city of Seoul, not a single thing had caught Sanha’s eye. Usually, Sanha loaded his camera with tons of pictures, capturing everything that he could see. It was a problem, honestly. A collection of SD cards had been growing in his dresser drawer ever since his grandmother had gifted him a camera for his sixteenth birthday.

When Sanha had left that day, there were two SD cards in his coat pocket, on the off chance that he would need them.

However, Sanha had only taken three, _three_ , pictures.

It was on his way home, defeated and annoyed for wasting a great day, that, of course, he had spotted something. Rather, someone.

Sanha had had relationships before. Both boys and girls, dating back to the time before he had come out to his family. Sanha had his first crush, his first date, his first kiss. In the end, all of those relationships were fruitless, merely based on infatuation.

It wasn’t something that he thought about often, the fact that he was single. Besides, Sanha’s apartment couldn’t fit anyone else but him.

But, at that moment, Sanha wouldn't mind trying to fit two into his twin-sized bed.

To anyone else, there was nothing noticeable about the boy. He wore a black beanie, a sleeveless white shirt, grey Adidas pants, and worn-in boots. The man sported a blue Jansport backpack, and, dear gosh, was that an earring? Yes, it was.

The boy's arm and thigh muscles were clearly visible, and, for Sanha, that only added to the viewing pleasure.

The man’s official nickname, as Sanha’s brain so helpfully supplied, was now 'Beanie Boy'.

Beanie Boy stood there, among others, waiting for the light above the crosswalk to turn white.

_‘Zing!’ pulled Sanha’s heartstrings._

Impulsively, Sanha reached for his camera and took quite a few photos. Luckily, and unfortunately, Beanie Boy didn’t notice Sanha’s heart trying to leap out of his chest. It felt as if Sanha were struck by lightning; There was a nervous tingling feeling throughout his body.

All things good have to eventually pass, however. Just as quick as it had come, the moment was gone. The crosswalk light turned into the little white man, and Sanha’s soulmate was swept up in a crowd of businessmen and businesswomen alike.

Sanha was dumbfounded. Why was he reacting this way to a stranger? People were starting to notice his little dilemma and stare, though, so he had no choice but to make his way home. Sanha made his way through his apartment, and quickly pulled up the pictures of the one he had just seen, Beanie Boy.

Sanha chose the best one, after debating between multiple pictures for several minutes, printing it out and clipping the photo to the canvas that he had set up earlier.

Hit by inspiration, he immediately started to sketch. The gentle slope of Beanie Boy’s nose, the way his head was tilted to the side. Sanha wanted to capture every detail. The palette was all neutral tones; Soft browns and deep blues giving off a homely vibe.

Sanha stood at his canvas, knees growing stiff and neck aching from constantly swiveling his head. He was lost in the drawing and was surprised by his own passion. Never before had Sanha been so eager to complete one of his pieces.

He worked slowly, as you can't rush perfection. Sanha worked in layers, building up colors and blending with a light brush of his fingertips. Sometimes the colors would smear, but Sanha wouldn't mind when they did. It added character to his pieces, he believed, keeping all of his mistakes.

While working, Sanha thought about the entire situation. Was he really going to hang a picture of a man, whom he didn't even know the name of, up on his wall? Beanie Boy had only stood there, but he had made Sanha's heart jump so violently that it seemed entirely comical.

Eventually, Sanha realized that he had work tomorrow, and, despite wanting to draw until his fingers bled, nothing would get done if he was sleep deprived.

It was with a heavy heart that Sanha took a last glance at the canvas before turning the light off, hitting the switch and then banging on the wall to make it work.

Sanha was utterly smitten with this stranger, despite subconsciously knowing that nothing would ever come of his sudden infatuation.

His dreams were filled with a certain black beanie that night.


	2. How?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> University exams are approaching, and nothing seems to be working correctly in Sanha's apartment. Who are the repairmen that come?

A knock on the door grabbed Sanha’s attention.

For a split second, his nerves jumped. _Am I about to be murdered?_

That was highly unlikely, and only moments later he came to the conclusion that no, he was not going to be murdered.

It must have been the repairman that he had called for just two days prior.

* * *

 

Over the day, Sanha’s smoke detector had died, and was emitting loud “beeps”. Sanha had been at work all day and returned home to the noise.

Being young and naїve, he had absolutely no idea what was happening. Sanha panicked, not having even taken off his shoes, mind going blank. Was it a fire alarm? Was a bomb about to go off?

Ever the drama queen, Sanha accepted his end. It was too late, there was nothing that he could do.

_I don’t even have time to say goodbye to my family!_

Meanwhile, the noise just kept on coming.

It took Sanha exactly seventy-two seconds to wonder why he had not been blown up yet, and twelve more to realize that he was not in any immediate danger.After taking time to text his family an ‘I love you’, he began to search for the noise. Sanha looked in every corner of his apartment, granted that the place was small, but to no avail. The noise seemed to be coming from everywhere.

Through a Google search of ‘Loud beeping noise in my house’, Sanha was able to deduct that his smoke detector was the culprit.

Alright, so now what did he do?

There were no visible buttons on the thing, and he did not want to get closer to the noise. The loud beeping, an A-flat, had already started to give him a headache.

The solution that Sanha came up with? He would throw his Elementary Statistics textbook at the sensor and, well, see if anything happened. It was heavy and surely would fix the problem. Entirely justifiable.

Textbook in hand, Sanha aimed… And threw.

Hey, at least he was dead on.

At contact, the detector popped out of its socket in the ceiling. There was a small spark as the object swung in a wide arc, battery sleeve popping and batteries falling out. The textbook promptly hit the wall and fell. At closer inspection, several wires that must have originally been connected to the sensor were frayed and broken, and there was a small dent in the wall from the textbook impact.

The beeping had stopped though, so no one could say that Sanha’s plan had failed.

* * *

 

Sanha later called the complex owner, and they had promised to send someone. Which led to his current predicament.

Sanha rushed to the door and opened it.

The man that stood there… Well, he was exactly what you’d imagine a maintenance worker to look like, except handsome. Young, wearing a denim jumpsuit, and carrying a toolbox.

The man, Moon Bin, as the patch on his clothes read, stared back at Sanha.

“Yoon Sanha?” He glanced at a piece of paper in his hand, “I’m here to fix a smoke detector.”

Sanha gave a quick nod and stepped aside to let the man through. “Correct, it’s just down the hall here.” Sanha led him, and as soon as Moon Bin had seen the alarm, he let out a low whistle.

“God, that’s serious. How’d you manage to ding it up that bad?” There was no malice in his voice, he seemed genuinely curious.

Sanha flushed a bright red. Should he tell the truth?

“I, uh, it wouldn’t stop beeping.” Sanha stopped talking then, not wanting to give an account of how exactly he did that. It was bad enough that every time he had recalled the event over the past two days he was hit with a wave of embarrassment, despite being alone.

Luckily, the man didn’t press. He set his tools down and went back to grab a ladder that he had rest against a wall outside the door. “I mean, it’s pretty bad. If anything, I’ll be here today and tomorrow. Anything else that you want to know before I start?”

Sanha gave a polite no and promptly shuffled away. Right to his bedroom, which held his unfinished canvas of Beanie Boy. It was mid-November now, and the project had barely progressed since he started it. Finals were coming up in university, and Sanha liked to feel prepared with his studying. There had simply been no time.

Now, however, Sanha could use the excuse of having the handyman over to get some time to work on his picture. The noise that Moon Bin would produce from his work would simply be “too distracting” for Sanha to really focus.

Like a child opening presents on Christmas, Sanha eagerly got to work.

* * *

 

 The two worked independently, neither disturbing the other. Just as he had the first time, Sanha got deeply invested in his art.

As he was adding soft highlights to the deep brown of Beanie Boy’s hair, there was a knock on his bedroom door.

Without waiting for a reply, Moon Bin stuck his head through. Gosh, Sanha disliked people who did that.

He looked slightly disheveled as compared to before, Sanha noticed.

However, Moon Bin wasn’t looking at him; Rather, his eyes were trained on the canvas behind Sanha.

Sanha quickly stepped into his line of view, and Moon Bin trained his eyes on the boy.

“Ah, pardon me, but it does seem that I’ll need to come back tomorrow, I don’t have the right type of wires on me.” The man cleared his throat, seemingly apprehensive. “If you don’t mind me asking, who’s the man in your drawing? He looks... I mean, it’s very good.”

For the second time that day, Sanha turned bright red. Of course he couldn’t tell the stranger that it was a drawing of the man of his dreams, so he stuttered, “My-My brother! It’s a picture for his-his birthday coming up.”

Moon Bin just nodded. Was that a look of skepticism?

“Well, I’ll get going now then. I’ll be back tomorrow to finish up, alright? Around the same time as today.”

Sanha nodded, still red. Moon Bin left, and he let out the breath that he was holding. What was that about? There was no way at all that Moon Bin could possibly know Beanie Boy. None.

In a state of embarrassment and denial, Sanha cleaned off his hands. Now that the handyman had left, there was no excuse as to why Sanha shouldn’t study. He grabbed a soda and resigned himself to another long night.

* * *

 

As promised, Moon Bin was back the very next day. The two worked independently again, except that this time, Sanha had turned his canvas and stand away from his bedroom door. Anyone who entered would see the back of the canvas, hiding his picture.

Moon Bin seemed to be taking longer today than he had yesterday, and Sanha was slightly suspicious. However, he wanted to avoid confrontation, and ignored that fact.

This time, Moon Bin had knocked on the door and waited for Sanha to open it. He showed Sanha the new smoke detector, and explained how to properly turn the alarm off if it were to die again.

After Moon Bin had left, Sanha had disregarded studying in favor of continuing his progress on his picture.

* * *

Days had passed, and it was final exam week.

Of course, right at the start of his exams, Sanha’s heater had broke.

Normally, people would ignore that fact in favor of studying. Sanha, however, could simply not function unless a room was above at least 60 degrees. He had instantly called management, feeling that he could not express how urgent of an issue this was for him.

Despite his pleas, the earliest that they could send someone over was the next day. Sanha would simply just have to make do.

Begrudgingly, he did. After a quick trip to the convenience store, Sanha was living off of those small hand-warmer packs. He took a ridiculously hot shower, and left his oven open on preheat to warm up the room. Consequently, all of his studying that night was done in the kitchen.

His exams the next day had gone well. He did like to be prepared, after all.

That’s why, when his doorbell suddenly gave off its usual, distorted sound, he was surprised. It was still fairly early in the day, and Sanha was currently wearing Doraemon pajamas with hand-warmers taped to his ears. He quickly ripped them off, and turned his picture around, in case it was Moon Bin who was coming again.

After opening the door, Sanha could tell you that the man standing there was certainly not Moon Bin. It was much worse.

Beanie Boy, or Rocky, as his nametag read, was looking at Sanha expectantly.

Sanha rightfully panicked.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no. How?_

This was definitely not happening, Sanha did not live in a Disney movie.

Meanwhile, Rocky raised his hand and waved.

“Yoon Sanha? Broken heater?”

_That’s right_ , Sanha thought, _Rocky had no idea that Sanha knew who he was_. Sanha snapped out of whatever panicking mode he was in, heart pumping.

“Ah, yeah, that’s me.” Suave.

Sanha let Rocky in, and stood there. Why was he standing there? He should show Rocky to the heater.

Rocky, however, already knew where the heater was. As he walked, Sanha noticed his eyes flick to the overturned canvas.

Sanha’s blood ran cold. He had left the picture right in the middle of the room. What if Rocky were to ask about it, or even take a glance at what was drawn? He’d see his own face, and Sanha would implode.

It was natural, Sanha concluded, that he grab the canvas and dead-sprint to his bedroom.

Upon re-entering the living room, he came upon Rocky quietly unpacking his tools in front of the heater. Neither of the two said anything, and that was probably for the better.

Sanha took his spot in the kitchen with his textbooks, plugged in his headphones, and secretly admired Rocky from behind. Even in a baggy jumpsuit, his muscles were visible, and his body looked ethereal. Sanha observed his sharp jawline, the small golden ring in his ear, and the light freckles that dotted his tanned skin.

Alright, that was enough. Sanha had one more exam tomorrow, and he wasn’t about to waste valuable study time. However, for some odd reason, Sanha seemed a little more distracted.

Approximately thirty minutes later, Rocky stood up. Sanha pulled out his headphones, and the two made eye contact. It took everything he had to pay attention to what the man was saying.

“The fix was pretty easy, so your heater should work now. What was odd, though, was that some of the wires were tampered with, and put in the wrong ports. You didn’t mess with it at all, did you?”

It was messed with?

“Uh, no, I didn’t.” Real suave.

Rocky smiled. “That’s all I have to do then. It should work for a really long time, otherwise let someone know.”

Sanha just nodded. Rocky made his way to the door, but turned to Sanha again.

“By the way, I really loved your drawing,” He said, before shutting the door.

_Pardon?_

There was no way that Rocky had seen his self-portrait, or had he? Was Sanha too late in taking it away? He hope not. Or maybe he was talking about one of the other drawings of his hanging around the apartment.

But Sanha had a feeling that he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! He's here. Also, I made a last minute decision to add Binnie. What took him so long on the second day?
> 
> I'm only expecting one or two more chapters for this story, as I couldn't stop writing when I was working on this chapter. I hope you enjoy!


	3. Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd usually wait a day to post, but since I haven't updated in a while I'm just going for it. Sorry for any mistakes!!

It was a spell. Someone had cast a curse on Sanha, he knew it. Right now, the old lady at the convenience store down the street was looking pretty suspicious. Once Rocky had come to fix his heater, nothing seemed to work anymore. The kitchen sink was clogged, there was no water pressure in Sanha’s shower, and at least four lightbulbs had died so far.

And, yes, normally, Sanha wouldn’t mind his appliances breaking - It was bound to come with the quality of the apartment.

Except, every single time that he had called maintenance, Rocky had shown up to his door, toolbox in hand. 

To state for the record, Sanha did not live in a Disney movie. He had checked; The only thing that had come to him from his singing was Sanha’s landlord, telling him to be quiet.

It was kind of a problem. Once, to avoid confrontation, Sanha had tried to fix a broken electrical socket by himself. Somewhere along the WikiHow article had he done something wrong, getting a nasty shock to his pinky finger. Thankfully, Rocky chose not to ask why Sanha was holding an ice pack to his hand.

That was the thing; Regardless of how many times Rocky had been there to fix anything, the two had never really talked. Their conversations were filled with short questions and even shorter replies. It was killing Sanha on the inside. He wanted nothing more than to demand answers for what the handyman had meant by “his drawing”, but, of course, Sanha said nothing.

* * *

A horrific noise, similar to that of a car backfiring, rang through the apartment. Well, that was new.

As soon as Sanha had turned on the garbage disposal in his sink, a demon had tried to crawl up through the pipes. Rather than trying to test his luck, much like he did on the outlet, Sanha immediately rang the front desk. A gruff ‘What?’ came through the speaker of his phone as the lovely receptionist answered his call.

Sanha talked, the lady grunted, and soon he was told that a mechanic would be on their way immediately. This caused Sanha to panic, his apartment was a mess. Rocky had seen it dirty before, but, much to Sanha’s dismay, this was much worse.

Just as Sanha was stuffing piles of cups into the dishwasher, there was a sharp knock on the door. Sanha combed his fingers through his hair, cleared his throat, and went to answer it. Opening the door revealed Moon Bin standing outside, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. It was quickly replaced, however, by a sickly sweet smile.

“Sanha, hey! I’m here to fix your garbage disposal. May I come in?” Without waiting for a reply, he made his way in, eyes scanning the living room. “No painting today, huh?”

Sanha flushed, giving a small “no”.

Maybe the animals in Disney movies only responded to English, he should try that next.

* * *

Sanha was dying to know where Rocky was, and why Moon Bin was here instead. Was he tired of Sanha? Did he do something to scare him away? Sanha had opened his mouth several times, ready to ask a question, but nothing ever came out.

It must have been Bin, who had glanced back at Sanha several times while working, that made Sanha finally say something.

“So, I haven’t seen you in a while.” Good, that was good. Vague enough to seem like Sanha was interested about how Moon Bin had been doing.

“I know, right? It’s been forever; I’ve missed you too.”

Alas, this is not where Sanha wanted the conversation to go. If Moon Bin wasn’t going to give him information, Sanha would have to ask. But, wow, he really did not want to ask.

Oh well. “I was just wondering, where’s Rocky? He, uh, he’s been coming to fix things for a while now.”

“Oh, him? Rocky’s out visiting his parents. A shame, yeah? I’ll let him know that you were worried about him.”

Without letting Sanha reply, Bin stood up, stretching out his back.

He dusted off his hands, despite wearing yellow cleaning gloves, and said, “That’s it. Make sure not to break anything else for another two days, or else it’ll be me that comes to fix it. Don’t worry; I’m not holding any grudges.” He seemed finished on the topic, packing up silently and exiting, a smile never leaving his face.

Why did the two always have the best one-liners before leaving?

Besides, Sanha was _definitely_ not breaking things on purpose. 

* * *

As promised, Rocky was back in three days to fix Sanha’s window that had gotten stuck while open. Sanha took his honorary spot at the dinner table, preparing to read a book (but not really). What caught him by surprise, however, was Rocky trying to initiate a conversation.

“So, do you have a job? God, of course you do, that was dumb. Uh, where do you work?” Rocky kept his head down as he spoke, glancing sideways at Sanha.

“Oh, at the Guitar Center down the street! Where do you work?”

Regret, that’s what Sanha felt as soon as the words left his mouth.

Rocky, taken aback, chuckled. “I mean, besides here, I’m a teacher’s assistant at a dance studio.”

Oh? He could see Rocky’s thighs clearly, but dance wasn’t the first thing that came to mind. It fit him, however, and Sanha was intrigued. 

“So you’re a ballerina,” Sanha joked, giving a bright smile.

Rocky scratched his head, a shy smile on his face. “Kind of? I mean, I did dance ballet for a year.” And like that, the questions continued.

‘What’s your favorite color?’ Rocky’s is lilac.

‘How old are you?’ Rocky is 22 years old.

‘Favorite scent?’ Rocky liked the smell of laundry detergent.

They could have kept on going, but since the window only needed to be oiled, their time was up soon.

At the door, Sanha had said goodbye to Rocky and was closing it when he was stopped by Rocky’s hand on his.

“Actually. . . It’s Minhyuk.” There was an adorable blush covering his cheeks.

“Minhyuk?” Sanha inquired.

“My name. Park Minhyuk.”

Oh. Now he felt dumb - the whole time he truly believed that Minhyuk’s name was really Rocky. “Well,” Sanha said, “then thank you, Park Minhyuk.”

The two exchanged sweet smiles, and the door was closed. Sanha stood there for a moment before jumping around his apartment, squealing and grinning. 

* * *

The relationship between the two slowly grew; They would slip into casual conversation every time Minhyuk came over. However, that was exactly the problem. They stayed friends - nothing less, nothing more. Sanha should have been thankful for that, and he was, but he was getting impatient. But, no matter how much he internally complained, Sanha was ever the hypocrite and did nothing to make a move.

It was the beginning of December now, and as Minhyuk kept coming, Sanha continued progress on his picture. It was looking great - Sanha would focus on secretly studying a new part of the handyman every time to add details to the canvas. Every time he was over, Sanha oddly seemed to have his 'Fresh Linen' candle lit.

Today, as Minhyuk replaced a broken cabinet door, Sanha stared intently at his nose. It was perfect; Straight, curving softly at the tip.

There was a lull in the conversation, prior to which Sanha was debating out loud about what type of dog breed Minhyuk would be. He decided on pitbull; Strong, resilient, and quiet, but also misunderstood and very cute. It fit his character perfectly, Sanha thought.

His internal monologue was stopped by Minhyuk looking down at him, eyes wide.

“Hey, I just remembered,” he looked back up at his work, “where’s my painting?”

Sanha spluttered. “Your-your what?”

“My painting! You know, the one of my face! Have you finished yet?”

The question threw Sanha offboard, and he wanted to disappear. He was a good person, for the most part, so couldn’t God fulfill his request just this once? Despite his pleas, Sanha was still in one piece and was forced to answer. “How, how do you know about that?”

“Oh, Binnie-hyung told me. When I came over for the first time and you ran away with that canvas, I figured that he was telling the truth. At first, you know, I was really freakin’ creeped out. We hadn’t met before, yet you had a picture of my face. But,” he shrugged, “now, as I know you more, I’m less creeped out.”

Wow. The next time he saw Bin, Sanha was going to strangle him. He was sure that his face was bright red now. At least, it felt hot.

“Well, I mean, it’s not done. . .” Like magic, Sanha suddenly had no confidence in his art style.

However, Minhyuk was nothing but persistent. For the rest of his time, which was at least ten minutes, he gave Sanha ‘pretty please”’s and puppy eyes. Sanha knew that he would cave in eventually, but was still angry at Minhyuk for playing dirty - Sanha’s weakness was adorableness.

So, it was with extreme nerves that Sanha handed Minhyuk his piece, eyes doing nothing but staring holes into the ground. There were still things that he had to complete, such as shading hands or adding details to the beanie. It was a mess, definitely not his best work.

Contrary to Sanha’s expectations, Minhyuk looked at it for a bit and handed it back. “That’s amazing, but you’re too nice. I’m definitely not that handsome, am I?” On his face was a brilliant smile, helping to calm Sanha’s needle-sharp nerves.

“Oh, no, you’re really pretty, hyung! I swear! The most handsome I’ve seen.” It was true, but maybe Sanha was a bit biased.

Minhyuk giggled. He _giggled_. “Ah, is that so? I’m flattered. Please, keep working on it, I really want to see the finished product.”

Both boys stared at each other with a soft smile, a blush high on Sanha’s cheekbones, when the pager on Minhyuk’s belt made a noise. Embarrassed, he gave a quick apology before pulling it out. His eyebrows rose, whatever was written had surprised him.

“God, I’m sorry, Sanha, I really have to go. There’s flooding in one of the apartments; Water is leaking through the flooring,” he said, rushing to grab his things, “I promise that I’ll see you later!”

And, with the close of the door, he was gone. Wow, Sanha needed a minute to process what had just happened - his heart was fluttering rapidly in his chest.

_‘Zing!’ went Sanha’s heartstrings._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to keep writing, but I have to save some suspense ;) I think next chapter will be really interesting!! Sorry for the wait, I couldn't express this the way I wanted to for a long time
> 
> Y'all. . . I saw Astro in San Francisco and it was so amazing. . . I did the Hi-Touch and MJ's! Smile! Is! Beautiful! I was shook
> 
> (iKon's Love Scenario is a BOP)

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, my first work!
> 
> Expect updates fairly soon, I have a lot of spare time this next week or so.
> 
> Will Rocky be introduced in the next chapter? Stay tuned!


End file.
